“I wish I had a twin, so I could know what I`d look like without plastic surgery.”
-- Joan Rivers
During the summer I dropped my daughter Alyssa off at her summer day camp job each morning, and then I would go on to work. I had to go through Franklin Lakes, New Jersey on the way, and even now during the school year I still go through there sometimes. I have yet to see any of the Real Housewives of New Jersey, even though they supposedly live there. I saw ten minutes of one episode early in the summer, the one where one of them was going in for breast implants. I turned it off because I think this kind of vanity is over the top. I much prefer the authentic and natural over these extreme makeover types who go in for alterations. I’ll take a smaller inconvenient truth over a bigger, cosmetically altered lie any day.
A few years ago a woman in my department at work was out for a couple of weeks. She was already attractive. But when she returned, her face looked like she’d gone toe-to-toe with Hilary Swank in Million Dollar Baby and lost by a knockout in an early round. I went the other way every time I thought she might be somewhere close by. It was awkward—I had no idea what to say. She had gotten another nose job.
I could not figure out why someone who already looked good needed to do this to herself. It made me think of something Robert Redford once said about why he had not gotten any work done on his face to remove the effects of aging. He said something like you “lose a little bit of your soul” when you do that. After the swelling subsided, I thought my co-worker had lost a bit more than she had gained too.
As I’ve reached forty-something, I’m starting to understand beauty in a whole different way. Wrinkles and gray hair are the marks you’ve survived, that you’ve made it a long way in life’s journey. Unblemished physical attractiveness is wasted on the young. If you look perfect, you probably haven’t done anything besides walking around looking good and spending money to keep yourself looking good. Who respects someone like that? This reminds me what Kiegaard said in his book Fear and Trembling, “. . . there is surely no one who thinks that anyone became great by winning the lottery prize” (75). Or a beauty contest. And beauty has so much more to it than just being “the one who catches every eye” as Jackson Browne sang in 2002’s For Taking the Trouble. He goes on to say that the better choice is the “one you can set your compass by.” So many lose their way when they cast their fate on one who only turns heads when they walk down the street.
When I was 19 and trying to find my way starting out in life, I somehow managed to marry a girl I could set my compass by. As we age together, I am grateful for this. And the thought of having her altered by cosmetic surgery would be tragic. I don’t even understand why she needs to color her hair or straighten her curls. “Just go with what your momma gave you,” I want to say, but I usually just hold my peace, realizing that to speak up would be going where angels fear to tread. But the truth is that natural is fine by me. But I also suppose we all want something we don’t have. This is probably why I had my Mom put my hair in curlers so I could have a big afro when I was 13. I saw myself in the mirror and ran to the bathroom, horrified, and washed it all out.
The thing I noticed about New Jersey when we moved here in ’93 was how many nail salons (and Chinese restaurants) there were. I was also surprised by the number of high school girls who regularly got their nails professionally manicured. I don’t remember ever seeing small-town Midwestern girls do this. For her 8th grade graduation, my daughter Rachel got her nails done. A few days later, I brought her in to pitch in the Leonia Recreation softball championship game and she walked three of four batters she faced and I had to pull her out of the game. I think the nail tips, which still looked great, might have had something to do with it. And this is the point for me. Some people just go around looking good with what I might call non-functional beauty, and for them this is enough. They are bent on looking good and that’s all that matters. This is the impression I got from the “real housewives of New Jersey.” They are just going around, trying to make a splash and catch every eye. Of course, now that I’m driving through their town every day, I’m starting to wonder if they are even real or not. I’ve not seen them walking down the street or looking at books in the Franklin Lakes library, which I like because it stays open until 6 p.m. on Fridays. So I think I know the answer, but if I actually do see any of them, I’ll let you know.
Copyright 2009 by Chris Rainey
-- Joan Rivers
During the summer I dropped my daughter Alyssa off at her summer day camp job each morning, and then I would go on to work. I had to go through Franklin Lakes, New Jersey on the way, and even now during the school year I still go through there sometimes. I have yet to see any of the Real Housewives of New Jersey, even though they supposedly live there. I saw ten minutes of one episode early in the summer, the one where one of them was going in for breast implants. I turned it off because I think this kind of vanity is over the top. I much prefer the authentic and natural over these extreme makeover types who go in for alterations. I’ll take a smaller inconvenient truth over a bigger, cosmetically altered lie any day.
A few years ago a woman in my department at work was out for a couple of weeks. She was already attractive. But when she returned, her face looked like she’d gone toe-to-toe with Hilary Swank in Million Dollar Baby and lost by a knockout in an early round. I went the other way every time I thought she might be somewhere close by. It was awkward—I had no idea what to say. She had gotten another nose job.
I could not figure out why someone who already looked good needed to do this to herself. It made me think of something Robert Redford once said about why he had not gotten any work done on his face to remove the effects of aging. He said something like you “lose a little bit of your soul” when you do that. After the swelling subsided, I thought my co-worker had lost a bit more than she had gained too.
As I’ve reached forty-something, I’m starting to understand beauty in a whole different way. Wrinkles and gray hair are the marks you’ve survived, that you’ve made it a long way in life’s journey. Unblemished physical attractiveness is wasted on the young. If you look perfect, you probably haven’t done anything besides walking around looking good and spending money to keep yourself looking good. Who respects someone like that? This reminds me what Kiegaard said in his book Fear and Trembling, “. . . there is surely no one who thinks that anyone became great by winning the lottery prize” (75). Or a beauty contest. And beauty has so much more to it than just being “the one who catches every eye” as Jackson Browne sang in 2002’s For Taking the Trouble. He goes on to say that the better choice is the “one you can set your compass by.” So many lose their way when they cast their fate on one who only turns heads when they walk down the street.
When I was 19 and trying to find my way starting out in life, I somehow managed to marry a girl I could set my compass by. As we age together, I am grateful for this. And the thought of having her altered by cosmetic surgery would be tragic. I don’t even understand why she needs to color her hair or straighten her curls. “Just go with what your momma gave you,” I want to say, but I usually just hold my peace, realizing that to speak up would be going where angels fear to tread. But the truth is that natural is fine by me. But I also suppose we all want something we don’t have. This is probably why I had my Mom put my hair in curlers so I could have a big afro when I was 13. I saw myself in the mirror and ran to the bathroom, horrified, and washed it all out.
The thing I noticed about New Jersey when we moved here in ’93 was how many nail salons (and Chinese restaurants) there were. I was also surprised by the number of high school girls who regularly got their nails professionally manicured. I don’t remember ever seeing small-town Midwestern girls do this. For her 8th grade graduation, my daughter Rachel got her nails done. A few days later, I brought her in to pitch in the Leonia Recreation softball championship game and she walked three of four batters she faced and I had to pull her out of the game. I think the nail tips, which still looked great, might have had something to do with it. And this is the point for me. Some people just go around looking good with what I might call non-functional beauty, and for them this is enough. They are bent on looking good and that’s all that matters. This is the impression I got from the “real housewives of New Jersey.” They are just going around, trying to make a splash and catch every eye. Of course, now that I’m driving through their town every day, I’m starting to wonder if they are even real or not. I’ve not seen them walking down the street or looking at books in the Franklin Lakes library, which I like because it stays open until 6 p.m. on Fridays. So I think I know the answer, but if I actually do see any of them, I’ll let you know.
Copyright 2009 by Chris Rainey